


Still Unwritten

by Izzyface



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Baby Mama Drama, Comedy, F/M, I wish I was kidding, MY MUSE DIED, Romance, SO MARRIED EVEN WHEN THEY'RE NOT, i can't write fight scenes so i avoid them like the plague, i think that covers it?, mostly AU, unbetaed fic, unfinished ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-03 21:04:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14004726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzyface/pseuds/Izzyface
Summary: A look at all of the drabbles and chapters of Oliver/Felicity stuff I've written over the last year because somewhere along the way my MUSE ABANDONED ME and I need some inspiration, and OH GOD HELP ME.





	1. The One With the Baby Pact

**Author's Note:**

> So, the summary sums it up pretty well. 
> 
> Despite not posting anything in... decades, I have been writing. Just nothing worthwhile. Scraps here and there that I sometimes share with the beta who then messages me and says, "Uh, Izzyface, that story you wrote? It's total crap. Try again." 
> 
> But I'M TRYING. 
> 
> I thought I'd invite some readers into all the playgrounds I've been playing in, and see if there's anything that ... catches anyones eye. I'm about have 3 weeks off work (yay partially torn Achilles!) and I planned to fill it with fic writing. But NOT IF MY MOJO IS GONE. 
> 
> Send help. And booze. Lots of booze.

* * *

_ … _

_ Felicity tucked the guts back into the mechanical baby. “This is the most ridiculous, sexist project ever.” _

_ Her study partner laughed. “I'm sure no one else has taken their ‘baby’ apart to see how it worked. You’ve got nine weeks left, Smoak. Suck it up.”  _

_ “Suck it up!?” she blustered. “I will not! And it has nothing to do with how many weeks of school I have left, Oliver. You have nine weeks left, too. No one at Starling Prep is asking you to carry around a plastic baby. It's misogyny at its finest.” _

_ “We both know that project was assigned by the public school sector, not the teachers at SPA. You should’ve dumped it on Donna day one and been done with it.” _

_ “They claimed there was a GPS inside.” Felicity blushed. “I didn't want to fail if there was.” _

_ Oliver burst out laughing. “So that's why… Oh, Smoak! They tell that lie to everyone.” _

_ She fell backwards on his bed. “This is miserable. I'm going to be a horrible mother.” _

_ “Hey,” he sobered. “You're going to be fantastic. This was a dumb project for school. Besides, you're like fifteen years out from having a kid.” _

_ Felicity shook her head. “No one’s going to want to have a kid with me, Queen.” She looked down at her second-hand clothes and frowned. The brunette was aware that Oliver Queen wouldn't give her the time of day if she hadn't been assigned his partner in a class last year. She’d saved his butt after he spent the whole weekend party with Tommy Merlyn. _

_ She hadn't mentioned to the teacher that Oliver hadn't contributed anything and he’d received his highest grade ever in Physics. After that, they’d become friends. _

_ Felicity didn't fit at Starling Preparatory Academy. It wasn't just her clothes, or braces, or too big glasses. She was by far the youngest senior in the class (even though she was technically graduating from Starling City Senior High), and had a full ride to MIT in the fall. _

_ “I'd have a kid with you.” _

_ “What?” _

_ Oliver blushed. “Say, in 15 years? I'll have a kid with you. If we’re both single.” _

_ She rolled her eyes. “We both know if you make it to 31 single, your mother and Laurel will tie you up and drag you to the alter.” _

_ “True,” he laughed. “Fine. If neither of us are married or in long-term relationship six months before my thirtieth birthday, we’ll have a kid together.” His blue eyes sparkled. “Agreed?” _

_ Felicity laughed at the absurdity of this conversation. “Agreed.” _

\---

May 1, 2014

One year.

It’d been one year since his father’s death. Technically, tomorrow would be the one year anniversary, and the family would be marking the somber occasion with a dinner and trip to the gravesite together.

But Oliver found himself here alone. With the envelope. Since Robert Queen’s will had been read, Oliver had rarely been without the envelope. A letter his father wrote him in his last weeks.

A letter he’d yet to read. Until now.

_ Dear Oliver, _

_ I just left the oncologist, who is now talking in terms of weeks and days instead of months and years. He’s also using phrases such as ‘a matter of time,’ which tells me that my time is growing short. It’s time for me to begin to try to make things right, if I can. I could spend this time and tell you all of the things I’m sorry for, but I won’t. I’ll only tell you that you and and your sister and are my greatest achievement in life. There have been moments when I’ve been less than pleased with you (I wish it hadn’t taken you four tries to graduate college, Son), but I’ve never been ashamed of you. _

_ There are times when I’ve been ashamed of myself. Times when I knew I should have left the office in order to make it to your baseball game, yet I stayed. Times when I should have said ‘no’ instead of yes. Times when I could have been a better father or husband. As I look back on my life, I hope that I’m leaving things a little better than they were when I found them. _

_ Find a woman that you love and hold on to her with both hands (and, I think she’s closer than you suspect). Have a family and enjoy every minute of being a father. Take care of your mother and sister for me. You are stronger than you know, Son. _

_ My greatest wish for you is that you’ll die an old, old man, in your bed, having LIVED. _

_ Love, your father, _

_ DAD _

Oliver’s hands shook as he tried to refold the letter and put it back inside the envelope. Once he managed it, he reached up and wiped his eyes.

\---

April 24, 2015

Oliver sat up, panting. He’d had the dream again. The one with the nameless, faceless pregnant woman in the restaurant. There was a familiarity there, with her, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. And what was more disturbing was the…  _ longing _ he felt. Oliver wanted the baby. He’d felt little connection to the woman, but whoever she was was clearly pregnant with his child.

He scrubbed his hands down his face in frustration. “Fuck.” He’d had the same dream on and off for the last eight months. It didn’t make sense to him at all. A therapist friend he’d confided in said it was his impending thirtieth birthday. Tommy had joked it was because he secretly wanted to be a father. Oliver hoped it was all a delayed reaction to his father’s death. Even though it was just past four, Oliver tossed the duvet to the side. No point in trying to sleep anymore tonight. There were papers awaiting his signature at Queen, Inc. At least he could get a workout in before he had to get to the office.

* * *

 

So... that's all she wrote... Clearly an Oliver centric fic. But something fun/funny. 

(Also, let me remind you that this is totally unbetaed, so the mistakes/errors are all mine.) 


	2. The One Where Felicity Leaves QC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Felicity walks in on Oliver & Sara in the Foundry, she quits her job as his EA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is just a chapter/beginning... 
> 
> This is the most recent thing I worked on. The idea was that post 2x13 where Oliver hooks up with Sara (IN THE FOUNDRY) he gets caught by Felicity and she does not take it well. And this fic would be her reaction... everything would stay the same, except she'd quit QC.

* * *

As Felicity sat across from Mr. Reyes of KORD Industries, she considered how she’d gotten there. Exactly ten days ago she’d submitted her letter of resignation to her boss, the CEO of Queen Consolidated, because eleven days ago she’d walked in on him and Sara Lance cleaning up after obviously having sex. And something inside of her had just... broken. 

“Everything looks to be in order here, Ms. Smoak. The only thing that sticks out is the six months you spent as Oliver Queen’s executive assistant. Can you explain that?”

Felicity gave him a tight smile. She’d expected this question. No matter where she interviewed, she knew they were going to ask it. “Mr. Queen is a personal friend. He and I met not long after he returned to Starling, and after his stepfather opted to move to Starling National Bank and Mrs. Queen was… in legal jeopardy, Oliver asked for my help and I took the job as his executive assistant as a personal favor to him.” Felicity needed to wrap this up, before she went into things she didn’t want to go into. “But even favors have expiration dates and I need to make a change for myself. At the end of six months, Mr. Queen and I agreed it was time to get back to my true love which is cybersecurity and creating technology.”

“I see.” The man studied her carefully. “And Mr. Queen couldn’t find a place for you in Queen Consolidated after the  _ favor _ you did him?”

“Sir—” Felicity bit her lip and swallowed her retort. It would do no one any good if she lost control of her tongue and lashed out at this peon. “I’m here because of the job opportunity, sir. Walter Steele said that you all needed someone who could design and maintain a custom firewall and help build a server room for some new government contracts you were just awarded. As you know, Mr. Steele and Mr. Kord eat lunch together Tuesday at their club. Walter reached out because he thought I would be perfect for this job. I happened to agree, so I decided to apply.”

She watched him and knew he didn’t miss the subtle hint she just dropped. Felicity knew someone who knew the CEO and she wasn’t going to tolerate his invasive questions about her relationship with Oliver. Or lack of relationship, as it was. Months ago, after Russia he’d made it seem he wanted to be with her, but it was too dangerous. But once Sara returned… maybe it wasn’t her he wanted to be with after all. Maybe she’d misread his signals and his  _ because of the life I lead, I can’t be with someone I care about… _

Because she thought that’d meant…

“Mr. Queen indicated we would be a fool to not hire you, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

The man held up a piece of Queen Consolidated letterhead. Felicity immediately recognized Oliver’s CEO signature across the bottom, but the letter only consisted of a few lines. She clamped down on the urge to read them. But there was no reason not to, as Mr. Reyes read it aloud.

_ To Whom it May Concern: I’ll gladly recommend Felicity Smoak for the position that she is applying. She is one of the smartest, most genuine people I’ve ever had the honor of knowing, and I’m fortunate enough to call her a friend. Felicity won’t be easily replaced at Queen Consolidated, but you would be a fool to miss out of the opportunity to have her at KORD. Oliver Queen, CEO Queen Consolidated _

“Hmmm.” Felicity couldn’t stop the warm feeling that spread through her. Of course she’d asked him for a letter of reference, and she’d even sent him a couple of websites he could use as samples, but she’d never expected something like that. Well, she’d never expected to know what he said to begin with. “As I indicated before, Mr. Queen and I are friends.”

Mr. Reyes nodded. He closed the folder in front of him and studied her carefully. “Like I said previously, everything is in order here. You’ll need to pass a state and federal background check, of course.”

“Federal?” she questioned. “That seems… excessive.”

“You’ll have access to sensitive information that is key in protecting National Security, Ms. Smoak.” He studied her a moment. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, of course not. I’m just curious as to why you don’t have ARGUS or another similar agency build—”

“You know about ARGUS?” he cut her off.

Felicity bit her lip. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything about that.” The blonde closed her eyes briefly and refocused. “The background check shouldn’t be an issue. When do you expect I’ll be able to start?”

“How long does Mr. Queen have you tied up at Queen Consolidated?” he questioned.

“We’ve already placed a temp in my position and I’m helping to hire my replacement.” Felicity reviewed the applicants in her head. “I should be free to start a week from Monday, I believe.”

The older man made a note on her folder. “I’ll pass that along to HR, then.” He stood and Felicity followed his cue. “I think you’ll be happy here, Ms. Smoak. The work will be challenging, but there’s no reason you won’t be able to do it.”

She reached across his desk to shake his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’ll walk you down to HR so someone will be able to review the benefits package, health insurance, and other incentives with you. It will take about an hour.”

“Thank you.”

“Before you leave, I’ll have the contract drawn up for you to sign, pending your background check.” They’d reached a bank of elevators and Felicity noticed how he stepped in before she did. It was hard to not recall how Oliver never did that. But now wasn’t the time to think about those things.

\---

Almost two hours later, Felicity was sitting in her car in the KORD Industries garage. That had gone… well. Surprisingly well actually.

Her life had been a whirlwind since deciding to leave Oliver behind at QC and find something for herself, but it wasn’t something she could regret. Sometimes it felt like she’d been half in love with him since that terrible lie about the coffee and his laptop, and Felicity was finally realizing that it was never going to be enough.  _ She _ was never going to be enough.

Oliver Queen didn’t fall for IT girls.

He went for exotic, tall women like Makenna who was strong enough to walk away from him when she had to. Or women like Laurel. Gorgeous, gorgeous Laurel who even in her drunken stupors only needed to call and Oliver would go running.

And now Sara. Who Felicity actually really liked. That was the frustrating part. She couldn’t be angry at any of the women (except maybe Isabel, because she’d thrown that one night stand in Felicity’s face at any opportunity in the last four months), because all of them had done the same thing she was guilty of herself.

They’d all fallen for Oliver Queen. Oliver with his stupid face and stupid abs and stupid words. He should come with a warning label:  _ Do not fall in love with me. _

And, ultimately, it wasn’t even Oliver’s fault for not wanting Felicity right back. It was her fault. Because even with the warning label, she would’ve fallen for him.

But seeing him with Sara in the Foundry, which was their space. (Not  _ their _ space, but their space.) It hurt. A lot. It hurt more than Felicity expected it too, because earlier that day he’d promised that she wouldn’t lose him and then… The Foundry was hers. His and hers and Digg’s. It didn’t belong to Sara, even though Oliver had invited her down months before without bothering to ask his partners.

So Felicity did the only thing she could do when she saw them. She grabbed the external hard drive she’d been there for and left. She didn’t know if Oliver came after her because all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. In and out. In and out.

On her way home she’d stopped at a drugstore for a $10 bottle of wine and a pint of mint chocolate chip. Before she got out of the car, she texted Oliver that she wouldn’t be at work the next day, but she’d call the temp agency before she went to bed. His only response was “ok” and they’d left it at that.

When she hadn’t heard from him again by lunch the following day, Felicity knew what she had to do. She needed some space. He was… everywhere, all the time, and she couldn’t think about anything. She was never going to meet someone new if she spent her days and nights with Oliver Queen. And she wasn’t willing to give up what they did at night for the people of Starling, so her decision was made.

Felicity still had about a quarter of what Oliver had gifted her in severance pay after the Undertaking in her savings, plus her executive assistant salary was twice what she’d been making as an IT girl. If she didn’t find work right away she’d be okay for a little while.

Her letter of resignation was short and to the point. He didn’t fight her on it. On any of it. Felicity waited for him to push her out of the Foundry next, in order to make room for Sara. It seemed the other blonde could do everything Felicity was capable of, and then she was a ninja on top of it all. It was… There was no wonder why Oliver was sleeping with her.

The last ten days at work had been calm. In her letter, she promised to help find her replacement, so that was what she was doing. In between interviews she hung out with Diggle in the security office with her laptop. Felicity hadn’t planned to go back to work so soon, but the KORD interview and job offer fell into her lap quickly. A phone call from Walter indicated he knew the CEO personally and that he’d arranged it all. From the job description, she’d be doing much of what she’d done before her promotion at QC. Except there’d been no need for a security clearance for her work there.

With all the changes, Felicity felt vaguely empty. Like something was missing and she couldn’t put her finger on what exactly. She missed the relationship she used to have with Oliver. Before Sara, before Russia, before she jumped out of a plane to convince him to come home. She longed for the days when she’d say something inappropriate, he’d just stare at her until her brain caught up with her words, and then she’d turn red with mortification.

But he never held any of that against her. He’d known all along how she felt about him, but then he went and… He made it complicated. Oliver was the one who said things he didn’t mean, but he should’ve known how she’d take them. She was a girl with abandonment issues and he… He made her believe he wouldn’t leave her.

The truth was she needed him. In a way she couldn’t explain to anyone. Felicity needed him in her life, but she still needed a little something for herself as well. Call it selfish or self-preservation or whatever. Leaving QC was her attempt to save herself needing Oliver too much.

Because as much as she needed him, he didn’t need her at all.


	3. (All) The One(s) That Feature Laurel - #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver Queen is married. That doesn't mean he's only sleeping with his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I recall, this was inspired by DON'T BLAME ME by Taylor Swift (see: _reputation_... or better, listen to it). 
> 
> I really, really like this fic. I need to make my muse work with this fic. I remember where I was going to take it - but where do you think it should go?

* * *

_ Something happened for the first time, in _

_ The darkest little paradise _

**Part 1 - Meet & Greet **

Oliver Queen studied the tumbler of Macallan he’d just poured himself. Next to it lay his wedding ring. Today was the halfway mark. If he could stay married to Laurel Lance for another two-and-a-half years, he’d only owe her twenty-five million dollars. When they’d agreed to this hair-brained scheme, he’d been desperate.

His father had died unexpectedly, his mother was basically comatose, and the shareholders were threatening a coup if Oliver didn’t get his life together and show he wouldn’t run Queen Consolidated into the ground. At 23 he wasn’t ready for any of it, but Oliver knew his family was depending on him. So he’d enlisted his long time on-again-off-again girlfriend in the task and they’d eloped. Oliver knew by the end of their two week honeymoon in Tahiti that he’d make a huge mistake, so he’d gone to his father’s best friend, Walter Steele, for help. The post-nuptial agreement was signed, with the five year clause, and he and Laurel agreed privately to an open marriage as long as they were both discrete.

She’d been fucking his best friend ever since. Tommy was the only one he was sure about. He had his suspicions about their pool boy and her personal trainer.

If Oliver pulled the plug before five years, she’d be entitled to twenty-five percent of his assets. He was determined she wasn’t getting a penny more than then twenty-five million. Even if he was miserable.

Oliver drained the tumbler and reached for his ring. They were expecting him at the hotel across the street for an intern mixer. He needed to show his face before he went home for the night. It was winter session, so there would be less than twenty interns to meet and speak with. But, there was one who he knew Walter was hoping to sign to an employment contract while she was here. She’d recently finished second in the National Information Technology competition and Walter felt she’d be perfect for the Applied Sciences division they were attempting to revamp. Oliver mostly tried to keep Walter happy, as he couldn’t do a damn thing at QC without his support.

The company had reserved the small ballroom at the Ritz and set up tables as well as catered hors d'oeuvres. Oliver entered quietly and went straight for the bar. He ordered himself another whiskey neat. Once the bartender handed over his glass, Oliver turned to survey the room. All of the department heads were in attendance, as well as the Board of Directors. There seemed to be more Queen Consolidated personal than actual interns, but the winter session always had the smallest class. Summer, fall, and spring intern classes easily topped 100 each time, but since winter session was only four weeks and fell over the Christmas holiday, the number of applicants was always low.

Oliver caught Walter’s eye who nodded at him and then pointed towards two students. Ah, one of them must be the young woman he wanted Oliver to meet. He hoped it was the blonde. She was standing with a fellow intern, talking animatedly with her hands, her face lit up about whatever they were discussing. Her blonde hair fell in rings down her back and she wore a scoop neck blue sweater tucked into a tartan wool skirt. Oliver could tell from here that her legs were shapely and toned, and her ass… That skirt was doing her no favors, but her ass was nice and rounded. He felt his cock stir in his pants.

He exhaled. It’d been a  _ long time _ since he’d had sex. Too long, apparently. Maybe he needed to pay a visit to one of his regulars.

Oliver drained his glass as Walter made his way over. “Which one is she?”

“Felicity Smoak. I sent you her resumé and picture, Oliver.” Walter studied the younger man. “Are you up for this?”

“I’m fine.” Oliver inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Tell me about her.”

“Ms. Smoak will graduate in May from MIT with a double Masters in Cyber Security and Computer Sciences, which she has accomplished in four years. She grew up in Las Vegas with a single mother. Recently finished second in the National Information Technology competition.”

“Recently?” Oliver interrupted. “She did that when she was 19.”

“She  _ is _ 19, Oliver.”

“Oh.” He would have guessed that she was at least 21. “Anything else?”

“She got into some trouble last year… or her associate got into some trouble, at least. Hacking, I’m told. Her ex-boyfriend is currently serving fifteen years and Ms. Smoak is on a NSA watch list.”

“What did she do?”

Walter sighed. He’d hesitated to bring this up at all. “My contact in the FBI was incredibly vague, but he indicated that Ms. Smoak confessed to writing an algorithm that was used to break into the Department of Education. Her boyfriend then opted to delete student loans.”

“Shit.” Oliver shook his head. “How is he in prison but she’s only on a watch list?”

“While she confessed, the boyfriend would not coorberate her story. He insisted he did it all on his own, but the FBI and NSA found it credible that she likely was the author of the code.”

“What you’re saying is she’s smart.”

“Genius,” Walter agreed. “And incredibly talented. QC would be lucky to have her.”

Oliver looked at his mentor. “Why don’t you introduce me, then? I’ll see what I can do.”

The two men walked over to the small gathering of interns and Walter easily joined their conversation. He’d met some of them and not met others, but Oliver could see that Walter was a natural at what he was doing. He was much better at being the CEO than Oliver was.

“May I introduce the CEO of Queen Consolidated, Oliver Queen?” Oliver stepped forward and shook hands with the four interns gathered there. Their names went in one ear and out the other. When he got to Felicity (the blonde), he immediately noticed her short, black fingernails. It was unusual. He would have guessed she’d have brightly colored fingernails that matched her personality.

“Ms. Smoak.” He felt a small spark as he took her hand in his. Did she feel that too? “Your glass is empty. May I accompany you to the bar to get another drink?”

Her smile was radiant. “Lead the way.”

Oliver walked beside her. “Are you drinking red wine? I brought some of the bottles over myself from our cellar.”

“Sparkling grape juice,” Felicity answered. “I’m only 19, Mr. Queen.”

“I’m aware of how old you are, Felicity. And you can call me Oliver. Mr. Queen was my father.” He reached for her glass. “One small glass of wine won’t hurt you. Isn’t the company paying for all of the interns to stay at this hotel? You won’t have to drive anywhere.”

“I…” She bit her lip with indecision. “I guess. But just one glass.”

“Stay here, I’ll be back.”

Felicity watched as he walked to the bar. This was… unexpected. Mr. Steele had been clear he wanted Felicity at QC once she graduated, but she’d never expected personal attention from the CEO. Queen Consolidated was in her top three, but at the bottom of that list. Ideally she wanted to work with Lucius Fox at Wayne Industries, but the crime rate in Gotham made her hesitate. Ray Palmer has pursued her for Palmer Tech, however she’d read that he was going to be moving into smart wearables soon. Nothing about that excited her. Felicity wanted to make a difference in what she did. Technology needed to be more than just padding your portfolio and your bank account.

“Here you go,” Oliver returned. He sat a half full wine glass down in front of her. “I’ve been given strict directions to woo you.”

“Have you now?”

“Of course, Felicity. We want you for Queen Consolidated. However we can get you.”

Felicity didn’t miss the hint of suggestion in his tone and she felt her cheeks heat. When he lifted his tumbler for a drink she noticed the gold band on his left hand. He couldn’t be flirting with her, could he? Clearly he was unavailable. “Queen Consolidated is in my top three.”

“Ah. That’s good to know.” Oliver studied the details of her face. “Tell me about growing up in Las Vegas.”

She laughed. “You did do your homework, didn’t you?”

“Walter did,” he admitted. “I was just told to woo you. Is it working?”

Felicity lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.” She took a tiny sip of her wine. “That’s very good. Sweet.”

“My mother allows my sister to drink it on special occasions. Thea says it’s sweet as well.”

“How old is Thea?”

“Sixteen.”

“That’s a fun age,” Felicity remarked.

“Tell me about it.” Oliver took another drink. “She’s all about boys and clothes and learning how to drive.”

“You sound very fond of her.”

“I am,” he admitted. “Since our father… She’s needed someone.”

“Was it unexpected? Your father.”

Oliver swallowed. “Car crash. A drunk driver hit him. He’d gone out to run an errand for my mother…” He shook his head. “Well, this is macabre.”

“I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand and covered it. “My father left when I was seven. Even though it’s been more than a decade, I still miss him sometimes. He was there when I went to school that morning, and then just… gone. I’ve gotten cards here and there over the years, but I’ve never looked for him. The reason I do what I do is because of him.”

Oliver stroked the edge of his thumb along hers. “We make quite a pair.” She slid her hand out from his and reached for her wine glass. “I’m sorry, did I—”

“No, no,” she assured him. “I feel like I’m monopolizing your attention.”

“I’m right where I need to be.”

Felicity smiled at him. “I’m glad this event was tonight and not tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Tomorrow is the first night of Hanukkah. I would’ve needed to leave early.”

“Oh. You’re Jewish?”

“Yes. Is that okay?”

“Of course!” Oliver smiled at her. “QC is a discrimination free workplace. I’m just filing away personal information about you, is all. Anything else you want to share?”

She reached for her glass and tipped the rest of it down her throat. “No, sir, Mr. Queen. I think it’s time that I return to my fellow interns and that you meet the rest of them.” Felicity touched her hand to his again and smiled. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Have a good night, Ms. Smoak.”

Oliver watched as she walked away and finished the rest of his whiskey. She was… incredible. Clearly she ran circles around him intellectually, but she was compassionate, funny, empathetic, and sexy as hell. Oliver wanted her, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he couldn’t have her. She was absolutely off limits, and it had nothing to do with her age or her internship. Felicity’d made him feel more in their twenty minute conversation than Laurel had in two-plus years. That was dangerous.

He kept his eyes on her as he withdrew his phone from his pocket. Oliver clumsily scrolled down to the ‘H’ and tapped on Helena’s contact information where he sent her a text instructing him to meet him at the Starling Grand in two hours. He needed some relief and Helena was the exact opposite of Felicity, so as long as he kept his eyes open and head clear, there would be no mistaking who he was with tonight.

Later, when he got home to the loft he shared with Laurel, Oliver felt better. His muscles felt loose and his mind was free of worry. He could hear Laurel in her bedroom, but Oliver didn’t want to deal with her tonight. He went to the kitchen and quickly made himself some eggs and toast. He never ate at the catered events offered by QC and Helena had given him a workout earlier. After eating, he washed off his plate and the pan he’d used, putting them both in the drainer to dry overnight. Oliver grabbed a bottle of water and went upstairs to his bedroom, hoping to get at least five hours of sleep.

Once he showered, he sat on his bed with his laptop and opened his personal email. There were two items he had to read tonight—a progress report from his mother’s therapist and a summary report from Thea’s semester at school. At one point Oliver hoped Laurel would be able to help with some of this, but it was clear she wasn’t interested in being a real partner. She would put on a nice dress when necessary for a charity function, but anything involving his family fell squarely on his shoulders.

In fact, it’d been nice to talk to Felicity about Thea tonight, even if it was sharing shallow things.

Oliver groaned. The whole point of seeing Helena was to stop thinking of Felicity and here he was, thinking of her again. But there was just something about her… Something radiant.

The light inside of her made him feel warm. Protected. It was terrifying and electrifying at the same time.

He pushed thoughts of the young blonde from his mind and focused on the reports in front of him. His mother and Thea needed his attention. Felicity could wait until tomorrow.


	4. (All) The One(s) That Feature Laurel - #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second part of those stories that feature the pairing of Oliver/Laurel in some form. 
> 
> These stories are less coherent & really just pieces of stories I've picked at over time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as stated, these are not polished at all - really just pieces of things I've worked on. But I wanted to put them out there. If you want something more refined - go read Chapter 3. (And good news, I think I might actually be able to make something full length out of that, FINALLY.) 
> 
> There is mention of a stillbirth in the 2nd fic & it goes into detail in the 3rd. Just FYI. 
> 
> Also, I cannot stress how unbetaed this stuff is.

* * *

1. 

{A/N: This has a similar tone to  _Developing Story_ which some of you have brought up a few hundred times... yes, I still have it, yes I still work on it from time to time. Yes, the muse abandoned me there too.] 

Ten minutes before his alarm was set to go off, Oliver reached for his cell phone and shut it off. It wasn’t like he’d gotten any sleep anyway. He’d come home close to one a.m., to find Laurel waiting up for him. The argument that ensued had been epic.

He sighed. Oliver couldn’t even remember what they’d been arguing over. Their two year wedding anniversary was less than two months away, but nothing seemed to be working for them lately. He knew part of it was because the stress of the ongoing mayoral campaign. Ruvé Adams decision to enter the race so late was throwing him for a loop. Finding out about Samantha and William was throwing him for another. Her request that Oliver keep William a secret was… impossible.

It was one he considered, at least momentarily. But keeping him a secret wasn’t an option. He couldn’t lie to his wife, or his team, about his son. While Felicity and Diggle were thrilled for him, and vowed to help him in any way they could, Laurel’s reaction was the opposite.

William Clayton was a living, breathing reminder to Laurel that Oliver Queen used to be a fuck up. No matter how much he’d changed, or how hard he tried, he was still the guy that got on the Queen’s Gambit with her sister. She’d still thought Sara was dead for six years because of him, only for Sara to actually die at the end of Slade Wilson’s sword.

No matter what good Oliver did, it would never undo the sacrifice Sara made that night. Even though Sara had volunteered to inject Slade with the cure, stepping in when Oliver planned to use Felicity to trick Slade. Laurel had already been kidnapped, and Oliver would have done anything to get her back―a feeling that Sara shared.

In their grief, they opted to elope. To make something happy out of their tragedy. He moved into her apartment with her, Laurel continued working as an ADA, and life was good. But then Oliver failed to get Queen Consolidated back and Felicity took a job working with Palmer and things were just a little bit… off.

Oliver scrubbed his hands over his face. He needed to get up and try to talk to Laurel. He’d spent the night in the second bedroom, and at some point today Thea expected him to show up at Verdant, but he and Laurel needed to see if they could hash this out. Somewhere along the way things went terribly wrong, but Oliver didn’t know where. He’d been feeling it for awhile now. Since he’d come back from nearly dying on the mountaintop after facing R’as. They’d been different since then.

They’d spent weeks away last summer, working on their relationship, and things were great when it was just the two of them… but their life didn’t exist in a bubble. Laurel could be Laurel Lance, kickass lawyer anywhere, but Oliver loved Starling City. It was home. It was where his family (what was left of it) and his team was. It was a city that needed him. Particularly as long as men like Damien Darkh kept showing up, bringing havoc with them.

When Oliver heard Laurel in the kitchen, he forced himself out of bed. It was now or never. He splashed some water on his face and pulled on a t-shirt.

* * *

2. 

[A/N: Clearly the only way I see Oliver & Laurel surviving long term is an open marriage.]

It started as a way to save his marriage. The problem was Oliver never counted on _her._

He and Laurel married in the summer of 2010, three years after the Sara debacle. He'd finally given in and taken a mid-level position at Queen Consolidated after finishing a Humanities degree at Starling City University. It wasn't the Business degree his parents hoped for, but it was something. Everyone knew he was still set to inherit the company, but his father was determined he gain actual experience first.

What no one expected was Laurel getting pregnant within six months of their wedding. It wasn't a healthy pregnancy and she was forced to deliver their stillborn daughter at seven months.

After that their sex life was nonexistent. For eight months he stayed faithful, and then he reverted to old habits. One night he snuck in with lipstick on his collar and another woman's perfume clinging to his skin when Laurel confronted him. She knew they were in trouble. But love wasn't the problem. Laurel couldn't find a way out of the fog, and she didn't want to punish him any longer. First she offered him a divorce. When he declined, she offered him an open marriage. Oliver agreed to think about it.

Which he did. For about a week, when he met Isabel Rochev at a QC fundraiser. She suggested they get a hotel room. He brought her home to his wife instead.

* * *

3. 

[A/N:  **TRIGGER WARNING: STILLBIRTH.** Also, maybe a tissue warning?] 

The thing about marriage is that it was hard enough without unforeseen complications. People were meant to grow together or grow apart when the complications came around, and once you had promised to _love and cherish_ for the rest of your lives, it was a given that you planned to grow together.

Oliver Queen married Laurel Lance on a sunny July afternoon in his mother’s rose garden at his family’s home. The bride wore a strapless Vera Wang gown in ivory. The groom wore a Tom Ford tuxedo. Tommy Merlyn, his best friend for as long as he could remember stood up for him. Her sister stood up for her. They were surrounded by their families and friends, plus important business contacts for Queen Consolidated, where it was assumed Oliver would be named CEO in six months when his father retired.

At 27 years old, Oliver couldn’t imagine life getting better. He’d loved Laurel Lance since he was fifteen, and even though they’d had their share of problems through the years, they’d come out stronger in the end.

He was wrong, though. About life getting better. Less than eight months later, Laurel rushed into his office, her hand clutching something white. Oliver was on his feet in less than a minute. “Honey?”

She smiled up at him. “I know we agreed we wanted to wait, but—”

“What’s going on?”

Laurel held the stick out to him. Two pink lines. “Does that… Are you… I thought…?” Oliver reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Pregnant?”

The brunette nodded at him. “Yes.” Laurel smiled again. “Is that okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve made an appointment with Dr. Lamb,” she replied. “But it fits. I haven’t had a cycle in two months. My breasts are tender, my hormones are everywhere, my appetite…”

“We thought it was a stomach bug.”

Laurel touched his arm. “I know it’s sooner than we wanted, but a _baby_ , Oliver. Can you believe it?”

He grinned down at her. “It’s amazing, babe.” Oliver cupped her face in his hands and leaned down for a kiss. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a father.”

“And I’m going to be a mother!”

Oliver pulled his wife to his body and spun her around. This was unbelievable. They were going to be parents.

_Five Months Later…_

Dr. Schwartz stepped back, unable to mask the sorrow on her face. In the time that she’d worked with Oliver and Laurel Queen, she’d grown rather fond of them. They were young, in love, and exactly why she was in the business. And today she had to give them the worst news two people would ever receive.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Queen, Mr. Queen. I can’t find his heartbeat.”

Laurel let out a sob. Her hand immediately went to her stomach and pressed. Since their son started moving months ago, Laurel had gotten used to him making his presence known throughout the day. When she’d woken up that morning with cramps, she’d immediately known something was wrong. The blood in her underwear confirmed her suspicions.

Laurel called Oliver at his office on her her way to the hospital. In between sobs she explained what she suspected. When she hung up, she begged their son to hang on. Now the obstetrician was confirming her worst nightmare.

Oliver reached down and took her hand. “What happened?”

The doctor shook her head. “We won’t know for sure until there’s an autopsy.” Her eyes moved over to Laurel. “First, Laurel will need to deliver the baby.”

“What?” she cried. Laurel looked up at her husband. “I have to… I have to deliver him?”

He cupped her cheek. “Baby, he can’t stay inside of you.”

Laurel shook her head. “No, no, no. It’s not time. I’m not ready.” She let out a loud sob. “It’s too soon. He’s not…”

Oliver looked up at Dr. Schwartz, whose eyes were filled with compassion. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

Once the doctor was gone, Oliver sat on the bed and took Laurel’s hand. “Hey, listen to me.”

“Why did this happen?” she questioned.

“I don’t know, honey. You can do this, though.”

“It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “What would be fair is that in two months you delivered our beautiful son and he was allowed to grow into a man.” Oliver could feel tears start to fall from his eyes, but he didn’t wipe them away. “You are strong enough to do this, Laurel. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. I _know_ you can do this.”

Laurel nodded. “You’ll be there?”

“Always.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay.” Laurel reached up and wiped at her eyes. “I don’t want to do this, but I will.”

“That’s my girl.” 

“Promise me something?”

“Anything you want,” Oliver agreed.

“We’ll try again.” She nodded at the delivery room. “I know you wanted this more than anything. And so do I.”

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Of course. But first, let’s get through this. And heal.” Oliver straightened. “Should I get Dr. Schwartz?”

“Yes.”

Lance Robert Queen was delivered stillborn at 8:32 p.m., February 17, 2013. An autopsy revealed the cause of death to be inconclusive.

\---

Oliver read the text message again and sighed. It’d been a long eight months and now…

 **Laurel, 9:46:** _I want to have another baby._

He hadn’t been able to come up with an acceptable reply since he received it ten minutes ago. And he knew that she knew he’d read it, as he’d already checked and his read receipts were turned on. It was something he’d changed.

They’d yet to really get over the loss of their son. And now… “Fuck.”

 **Laurel, 9:58:** _Look, I know what you’re doing. Probably sitting in your office, trying to figure out what to say, or how to tell me that now isn’t the right time, especially since we don’t REALLY know what went wrong with Lance, but I’ve thought about that too. I think we should look into adoption or surrogacy._

How could she just spring this on him? Oliver squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the texts were still there. Even worse, there was a bubble indicating Laurel was writing _more_. In an effort to stop her, Oliver quickly tapped out a reply.

 **Oliver, 10:00:** _Can we talk about this when I get home? This feels like an in-person conversation._

The bubble stopped, but then started again.

 **Laurel, 10:01:** _Of course! ILY._

 **Oliver, 10:01:** _I love you, too._

He switched his phone to vibrate and sank back in his chair. That was… not the woman he’d left at home this morning. As time went by, he didn’t recognize Laurel anymore. His mother and Thea both encouraged him to give her time, as the loss of a child wasn’t something one could be expected to recover from overnight. So, Oliver was patient. When Laurel announced she was leaving CNRI for good, he hadn’t said anything despite knowing she loved the work she did there.

When he had wild mood swings and yelled at him for twenty minutes because he left his workout clothes _beside_ the hamper instead of _in_ the hamper, Oliver accepted it and promised he’d not make that mistake again.

When she forgot their anniversary, Oliver told himself that it’d been a rough year and things would get better. He was struggling and he wasn’t the one who had carried their child inside him for seven months. He wasn’t the one who had to push little Lance out.

Except there were some things he couldn’t let go of… in the delivery room, Laurel refused to hold their son. As much as it hurt, Oliver took him from the delivery nurse and counted all of his fingers and toes, just like he would’ve had the boy survived. He took the time to memorize Lance’s face. How his tiny lips were puckered into a pout and his delicate lashes curled. The baby looked like he was peacefully sleeping. In those few minutes, Oliver was able to snap some images of the boy on his phone and quietly dream of the life he might’ve had.

That’s what kept him going in the months since.

Dr. Schwartz said Laurel had post-partum depression and needed time. It was made worse by Lance’s death, and the sooner things were allowed to get back into a routine, the better it would be. But Oliver was left wondering what was _routine_ anymore. Their lives were turned upside down and sideways. Nothing made sense to him and it seemed there was nothing he could do to help Laurel either…

When he arrived home that night, Oliver was surprised to find the first floor of their apartment dark. “Laurel?” he called up the stairs.

“Hey, hon!” she answered. “I’m up here.”

Oliver started up the stairs, one hand on his tie. What was she up to?

 

 


	5. The One With All the Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five (or so) drabbles that I haven't made any progress on in a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last one of them. Thanks for reading, guys! (Especially those of you who read the O/L stuff in the middle.)

* * *

1.  **The Personal Ad**

[A/N: The very first O/F fic I ever wrote was called  _Backpage_ like 3 years ago, but I took it down because my personal life exploded, and also it kind of gave me the willies... so this was something I started in an effort to replace it.] 

**\---**

**M4W/28/...college education required…** Starling City, WA

28 yr old male ISO of 25-30 yr old female living in/around Starling City. Circumstances are unusual, but a college education is required (will explain). Job will require at least 6 mos commitment, but well compensated. Serious inquiries only. Please respond via e-mail.

***

Felicity read the Craigslist post again. What _exactly_ was this guy asking for in the ‘help wanted’ section of the website? She’d gone online to look for some extra coding work and instead she’d found… a personal ad? At least, that’s how it read, except the guy had listed it in the wrong section. Plus, did Craigslist even allow you to post personals anymore? And a six month commitment? Serious inquiries only? What the…? So many questions, so few answers.

She clicked the ‘back’ arrow and went back to browsing. Coding. Extra money. That’s what she was looking for. Despite her Queen Consolidated check being deposited yesterday, her account was empty again. And if she didn’t find a steady extra income source (and soon), the blonde computer technician was afraid she would have to head back to Vegas and her mother. That wasn’t really an option.

There were no promising leads in terms of work, so Felicity closed the window and walked into the kitchen. She had coffee, some ramen, and lots of macaroni. After college she’d hoped to never have to eat like this again, but things could always be worse. She could be in prison, like Cooper. Instead the FBI had stuck her with a $250,000 fine and given her ten years to pay the debt (plus probation, and a federal watchlist). That meant that about one-third of her paycheck (after taxes) went to the federal government every two weeks, and most of the rest of it went to household bills and upkeep.

Felicity had only written the x-axis bi-numeric algorithm just to see if she _could_. She’d never meant for it to be used to hack the Department of Education and student loans to be deleted. But fucking Cooper Seldon ‘borrowed’ the virus for an afternoon when she was in class, and she hadn’t known anything about it until the Feds had come knocking. That was probably the only thing that saved her from prison.

Then Walter Steele and Queen Consolidated offered an escape from Boston and her life, and at the time Felicity couldn’t think of a reason to not pack up and move to the other side of the country. After everything with the government, none of the other tech guys would even return her calls. Felicity knew - deep down in her bones _knew_ \- that if she explained the financial situation to Mr. Steele he would find the money for her (his family was worth billions!), but Felicity was trying to make it on her own.

She considered selling her eggs, but her genes weren’t that great (a 5’3 tech genius with natural mousy brown hair and a cocktail waitress mom? no one was going to request _that_ ) and you only got between $50 and $75 for plasma donations. So the coding work… which apparently no one needed.

* * *

2.  **Pussy Posse**

[A/N: I don't even know.]

\---

Oliver Queen was _so tired of it all_.

The drinking. The drugs. The women. He wanted something different. He _needed_ something different. He was _dying for_ something different.

But what?

He and Tommy had been doing the same thing since they were sixteen. Sex, booze, pot, pills… Occasionally the harder stuff like coke (more Tommy than him) and weekends spent stumbling from one club to another, high on who knows what.

It’d taken him seven years and four universities to finish a four year degree. The final one while living with his family in Starling City. A degree from Starling City University wasn’t as prestigious as Stanford (like Laurel), Duke (like Carter, the douche), or Harvard (his father’s alma mater); but he’d finished.

He’d finished and his mother immediately started pressuring him to take a position at Queen Consolidated. Despite the fact that his degree was in _adventure education_ , and not business or accounting, or anything related to their family business. Moira Queen’s argument was that a degree was a degree, Oliver was a Queen, and QC was a family business.

So what little progress he made went down the drain. Oliver moved out of the mansion, bought a condo across town, and announced he was opening a nightclub. He was going into the business of partying. He’d gotten a degree in that from the school of hardknocks.

Fortunately, Tommy Merlyn (his best friend since they were both in Pampers) got an actual business degree from San Jose State in California. After Oliver and Tommy had both been kicked out of Harvard and Northwestern ( _how_ and _why_ they ended up there Oliver would never understand) Malcolm Merlyn issued his only child an ultimatum.

Like a puppy dog, Tommy had caved and found a school close to Laurel (the female best friend of their group) to finish his undergraduate and MBA.

As soon as Oliver and Tommy were reunited in Starling City, the Pussy Posse were back in business. It took ten months to get _Verdant_ up and running. Oliver had purchased an old warehouse in the Glades from the Queen Family Trust and remodeled the inside.

* * *

3.  **Double Standards**

[A/N: There is a romance book called Double Standards by Judith.... somebody, and I'd planned to use it as the basis of an O/F story. I still haven't given up on it yet. It would likely have to be a summer plan, not a 3-week surgery plan. If anyone has read it, I'd *love* to talk to you about it, and maybe have a plot (or writing?) buddy.] 

\---

Malcolm Merlyn couldn’t believe his luck. Queen Incorporated had outbid Merlyn Global by less than half of one percent on the latest military contract. Queen had to have a spy inside his company, but who? Malcolm had kept those contract bids secret until the day they were submitted, and only four men were aware of their contents. Four men who he trusted implicitly. Yet, they’d lost a $500 million contract by a measly $2.5 million! That they’d lost the contract to his ne’er do well stepson just made it worse.

“Mr. Merlyn, your 2 o’clock has arrived.”

And now he had to sit down with his half-brother’s daughter for a job interview. He’d met the girl once, about nine years ago, and the girl had been obnoxious and somehow gave the impression she thought she was better than them. Some no-name, no-count girl better than him, his wife and children?

The girl, Felicity Something-or-Other, was going through a ‘Goth phase’ according to her mother. She’d been dressed in head-to-toe black, about thirty pounds overweight, and in desperate need of a fashion update (according to Thea). Noah left the girl’s mother shortly after, and Malcolm hadn’t given them another thought. Until the mother reached out, hoping to tempt the girl out of Las Vegas with a job in Starling City.

Moira made him take the appointment.

“Sir, are you ready for Ms. Smoak?”

There was no avoiding this now. “Yes, Celine. Please escort her in."

* * *

4.  **Whiskey Sour Kisses - 02**

[A/N: The title is pretty self-explanatory. This was meant to take place immediately after my fic "Whiskey Sour Kisses" that I posted last summer.] 

\---

The thunder at 3:17 a.m. was what woke him. It took a minute for Oliver to remember where he was, but then it all came back to him. The dive bar near the Glades, watching Felicity drink herself into oblivion, approaching her and talking, offering her a ride home, kissing her, going by Big Belly Burger, the pictures on her phone… accepting the invite to come inside.

He needed to get home before the rain started. Oliver lay still as he considered his options. If he snuck out, he’d have to face her again the next morning. He needed to know more about that warehouse and what was inside. He also wanted to talk to her more about Walter. Felicity hadn’t told him the entire story, and he needed to know. She’d hinted his stepfather had fired her because she’d gotten too close—but to _what_?

If he woke her, he was going to have to involve her. He’d no longer be able to drop by with a technical question he couldn’t solve on his own. Oliver knew he’d have to reveal his Hood identity to her and let Felicity decide if she wanted in or not. If she didn’t… He wouldn’t think about that right now. She’d helped him on two cases so far, and she’d seemingly helped Walter with some off-the-books tasks. Something told him that she was his girl when it came to his mission.

Oliver carefully slipped out of bed and searched the floor for his clothes. There was enough light from the windows for him to find them and quickly dress. Once he was finished, he sat down beside her. Her hair was freed from its normal ponytail, falling in loose waves around her face. Without her glasses, she looked just older than Thea. “Felicity,” Oliver whispered. He reached out and drew a finger down her nose. “Wake up.”

The blonde reached up and swatted his finger away. “S’eepy.”

“Hey, I gotta go,” he shook her gently. This time her eyes opened, but she didn’t focus on him. “Are you awake?”

“Hmmm? No.”

Oliver leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, demanding a response. When she started to kiss him back, he pulled back. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she grumbled. “Time is it?”

“Early,” he answered. Oliver reached out to play with her hair. For some reason he couldn’t stop touching her. “I need to get home. Mom left for Australia Monday night, so I want to be there to have breakfast with Thea.”

Felicity nodded. “M’kay.”

“I’ll be back,” he promised. “Around nine.” Oliver kissed her again because he couldn’t help himself. “With coffee. How do you like yours?”

“Nonfat latte, with three sugars.”

“Got it.” He gave her one more kiss. “I’ll let myself out. See you later.”

Her eyes closed and she rolled towards his warm spot in the bed. “Night.”

* * *

5.  **Whiskey Sour Kisses - Misc Scene.**

[A/N: Another fic set in the WSK universe. Seems pretty clear where it falls in the  _Arrow_ timeline.]

\---

Oliver Queen was a man on a mission. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Felicity with the bomb collar around her delicate neck. The lights flashing… her panicked voice telling him to stay away… how _helpless_ he’d felt… He’d made such a point of staying away from her until now, but he didn’t think he was strong enough anymore.

_If he’d lost her…_

But he didn’t. Oliver climbed off his Ducati outside of Verdant and stowed the helmet. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths. It’d be no good if he went in there like this. Obviously they needed to have a discussion about their relationship—if Felicity even wanted a relationship with him. But first…

Felicity was easy to spot inside of Verdant. She stood out like a lighthouse on the dark sea, calling to him. Her pink dress didn’t fit with the industrial interior of the nightclub, but she’d never complained or tried to fit in better. Again, she stood out like a light in the dark. If the waitresses or bar staff didn’t like her, they kept it to themselves. Oliver was aware that Felicity sometimes received special privileges (such as daytime hours and drinks while on duty), but no one ever complained. Since she’d started there, Oliver found that he was hit on less and was much more likely to get things done, allowing him to be downstairs.

“Hey,” she called when she spotted him. Felicity looked back down at the computer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's them for now. I'd love to talk about them, and hear your thoughts. I hope to turn one (or more) into something full length eventually. If not, then I'm going to go slowly (s-l-o-w-l-y) insane. If you have questions, you can find me on the comments or on twitter @rafajunkie.


	6. The One About Felicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a fic that centers around Felicity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this and it went somewhere different that I planned... I don't really love it. But don't want to scrap it, either. I guess.

* * *

Felicity Smoak was tired. And not the I-need-a-nap tired, but tired in her bones. She needed a week off work. At this point, she’d settle for a single day off work. Or even a morning where she was able to sleep beyond seven. 

Lately she’d been working two full-time jobs in an effort to keep up with her student loan payments, rent, utilities, and food. The bank had repossessed her car the previous month, which was a blessing and a curse. It was one less payment to worry about, and she no longer had to deal with worrying about gas, but it also meant she had to schedule her day around public transportation schedules.

When Felicity had left Las Vegas for MIT, she’d had big dreams. Her life wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. Instead she met Cooper Seldon when she was a sophomore and let him talk her into becoming a  _ hacktivist. _  She created the x-axis bi-numeric algorithm as a challenge, and Cooper had used it without her permission to break into the Department of Education. He’d used it to delete millions of dollars in loans before Myron, the third member of their group, pulled the plug.

The FBI came for Cooper the next day. Felicity tried to tell them that she was the one who wrote it, but no one was interested. Cooper hung himself in jail the day before his official sentencing, and she withdrew from MIT at the end of that semester. She was twelve hours shy of finishing a dual Masters degree in Computer Sciences and Cyber Security.

Three years later, Felicity was living on the other side of the country in Star City, Washington. After arriving there she’d attempted to find jobs at some of the technology companies in the area, but none of them were willing to give her even an entry level position once they ran a background check. Eventually she took a position at Tech Village doing grunt work for $16.50 an hour. When her student loan repayments kicked in after six months, it became necessary for her to find a second job in the evenings.

That lead to an illustrious career as a telemarketer. It was by no means her dream job, but it was what she needed to do to get by.

At 23, this wasn’t what she expected for her life.


	7. No Rings on Her Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity's POV on some relationship's in Oliver's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is Oliver/Unknown... but still FPOV. 
> 
> And something I've been playing with for awhile. To see if I can play with this universe and get something going. But I wanted to see if there was an interest (but maybe not in this format?)... 
> 
> IDK, maybe it's terrible.

 

* * *

There was something _not right_ about their marriage. As Oliver Queen’s newly appointed executive assistant, Felicity Smoak was certain something was wrong with his marriage. It was clear he adored his daughter. The little girl was a perfect mix of him and her mother, with golden blonde curls and a perma-smile affixed to her face. Whenever the nanny would bring her by to visit Oliver most afternoons after daycare (although, why she was in daycare or they had a nanny, Felicity wasn’t sure, because Mrs. Queen didn’t work that she could recall) he would light up around his daughter. It was clear he adored that little girl and that she adored him in return.

And Oliver…, or really she should call him Mr. Queen (even if she called him Oliver in her head), well he was also very nice. He’d taken over as the CEO of Queen Consolidated after the unexpected death of his mother and six years after his father died on the Queen’s Gambit. After that, Oliv—Mr. Queen left Starling City in order to finish his MBA. When he returned five years later, he was married to _her_ and eleven months later their daughter was born.

Felicity met him shortly after his return. He’d taken a job as a junior executive at QC in order to learn the company, and had some IT needs. She’d been sent upstairs to help him out and they’d struck up an unlikely friendship. Felicity tried to ignore the spark she felt around him. There was a ring on his finger, but not on her heart. So long as she kept her space—so long as she spent most of her time in the IT department 18 floors below him—then she could keep her head about her. She’d seen her mother fall for married men, and Felicity _would not_ be another Donna Smoak.

It still didn’t change the fact that there was something not right about his marriage. Felicity saw him out often with his sister and brother-in-law, and with his long-time best friend and wife, and even his bodyguard and wife. But never _her_. She never came by the office, never accompanied him to corporate events, or the many charity events the Queen family sponsored. All events that Felicity was expected to attend once she was _promoted_ to become his executive assistant.

As Felicity watched, she was just… What if she went her entire life and never sparked with anyone else? Didn’t that matter, too?

With a sigh, Felicity decided. She could wait. Some things were worth waiting for. And, she suspected, Oliver Queen might be one of those things.

* * *

I'm trying to get my muse jump-started so I can work on the next chapter of  _Periods_.... 

 


End file.
